


One-shots, Two-shots, Three Shots, Vodka Shots

by Sarasa_pen



Category: Avengers, DCU (Comics), Harry Potter - Fandom, Hunger Games - Fandom, JLA, Marvel, Riverdale - Fandom, Sherlock (TV), Stranger Things - Fandom, Twilight, X-Men
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 05:18:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 7,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14687295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarasa_pen/pseuds/Sarasa_pen
Summary: Basically One-shots on Harry Potter, DCU, Marvel Universe, Rivervale, Twilight, Hunger Games, Stranger Things and Sherlock. Requests are accepted, such as fluff, angst and even smut.Hope you enjoy!





	1. Peter Parker X Reader

“Choose”

You don’t know why you said it, really - okay, that was a downright lie; you wanted him to know that you were not just some object that he could take for granted - but it sure as hell didn’t work.

“What?”

His voice.

Oh, his voice. How could someone’s voice be so sweet and gentle and innocent and yet be a stab to your foolish, foolish heart at the same time?

“It’s simple Peter.”

No it isn’t.

“Me, or your girlfriend. Choose.”

He didn’t understand. His girlfriend Liz had asked him to stop spending so much time with (Name), because of all the rumours in school. (Name) was his best friend other than Ned, and he thought she would understand. All he did was ask her to stop coming with him for his crime-fighting antics. (Name) could manipulate gravity, and accompanied him after the event of Civil War every afternoon. She looked very hurt, before she was silent for five minutes.

“(Name), why are you-”

“CHOOSE, DAMN YOU!” You screeched, shoving him with all your might. You were trembling, and glaring at Peter so hard that the phrase ‘if looks could kill’ fluttered through his mind. This whole damn argument was stupid. Liz had brought it up because she thought you liked Peter, as in like-liked him, which, okay, was true. But it didn’t give him the licence to be a douche.

He opened his mouth to retaliate and then paused, dropping his gaze.

“Hey, is everything alright?” May opened Peter’s door, pausing once she saw saw the state you were in.

“(Name), you don’t have to do this. Liz is my girlfriend, and you are my friend.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat with great difficulty.

“That’s exactly why I’m doing this, Peter. Goodbye, May, thank you for having me here. Goodbye, Peter.” You forced out. You picked up your school bag and left, not looking over your shoulder once.

May sighed as she leaned against Peter’s doorframe.

“I don’t think I have to tell you that you screwed up.”

“She…she will get over it. She has to.” Peter mumbled, turning away.

“The thing is Peter, she doesn’t.”  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Peter missed you.

You were ignoring him. No, sorry, you were acting as if he didn’t exist and that he never did. He didn’t actually think that you meant what you said, because you were always there for him. Maybe he did push you a little too far. Even Ned was annoyed at him.

It had been almost a week now, and he had tried to speak to you, but with no avail. You no longer sat with him at lunch, leaving him and Ned all alone. At least Ned could wander over to your group of giggling girls and gay guys and actually speak to you. Peter, however, could not. He would come over and your best friend would glare, the rest of your gang giving him the cold shoulder.He would watch your door in the mornings (you lived in the opposite block from him) so that he could dash out and try to cash you. After the second time though, you asked your parents to drop you to school instead.

In school he would see you in the hallways between classes, giggling at something another boy said as you walked past him, not noticing him there. Your eyes would meet sometimes, and he would grin, but then you would just look away as if you never knew him at all.

In class, you and (y/b/f/n) sat together in front of Peter and Ned. It was absolutely awful, seeing you right in front of him, smiling and laughing, occasionally turning to say something to Ned (because Ned hadn’t done anything wrong). He felt hurt, and abandoned, and betrayed.

He missed your daily crime-fighting adventures you would go on together. You would always pick up a wrap or a sandwich, and sometimes the occasional muffin or cookie, and go around town helping old ladies cross a street, and pulling on Peter’s gloved hand as you sprinted to a dog to pet it.

He missed your conversations. He missed how you used to talk every second of every minute of every day and how he was able to tell you everything on his mind.

He missed your eyes. He missed the way they would sparkle whenever you did something you loved. Your eyes, in particular, were captivatingly beautiful. Not because of the colour but because of the worlds they held within them.

He missed your smile. Because in your smile there was something more beautiful than all the stars in the Universe.

He realised that… one of your hugs would be nice right about now.

So he picked up his phone and called Liz to say that he was sorry, but it just wasn’t working.

Then he saw you, walking with your best friend and laughing at something she said.

Your smile. Your eyes. The way you laugh. The way you talk. The way you walk.

Peter realised that he could stare at you forever.

And then he decided, fuck it.

Peter jumped off the balcony he was on, still in his Spider-man suited landed right in front of you. You let out a small scream when he appeared so suddenly.

“I’m sorry.” He told you as he lifted his mask to his nose.

Peter leans forward and winds his fingers through the hair at the nape of your neck and he kisses you, he wraps an arm around your waist and he kisses you, and your palms curl in the fabric of his suit and you don’t push him away and it’s perfect, perfectly impossible and perfectly unreal and he barely manages to stop himself from pinching his arm because he has to be fucking dreaming-

He kisses you.

He kisses you, and you kiss him back and he kisses you again, again, again, and he doesn’t want to stop, not even when he runs out of oxygen and air and time, fuck, because things aren’t supposed to be this good, kissing isn’t supposed to be this good, but you are, of course you are, and you always will be-

He kisses you.

He kisses you, and you kiss him back, and it is so fucking amazing-

“I choose you.”

Peter Parker stole your first kiss that day.


	2. Natasha X Reader

“я люблю тебя,” you murmured into Natasha’s neck, gripping her waist tightly. 

Her eyes widened, and a smile crept onto her face as you pressed a kiss to her collarbone. 

She leaned back so she could kiss you properly. 

“I love you too.”


	3. Damian X Batmom!Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Midnight Cuddles

When you married Bruce, you knew it came with a large responsibility.

What you didn’t know is that there was also the responsibility of an eleven-year-old angsty boy.

You tried your very best to make him like you, but to no avail. Damian refused to like you. Or so you thought.

* * *

Usually, when there was a thunderstorm, Damian would quietly slip into your room and lie down next to Bruce.

There were, however, a few days where Bruce was on patrol.

The first time, a loud crack of thunder had startled you awake. You grumbled as you sat up, getting out of bed to close the windows properly.

And then you tripped over Damian.

Luckily for you, he was sound asleep. On the floor.

You sighed and pulled the blankets back so there was enough space for Damian. You bent down and tried to pick him up, almost falling twice. You quietly laid him on the bed and moved to put the blankets on him.

Damian had woken up when you picked him up, and sat up curiously as you straightened the blankets. You turned and jumped, placing a hand on your chest.

“Jesus Christ, Damian,” you muttered as you pushed him down, pulling the blankets over his shoulders.

“You can sleep here the whole night, if you’d like. Just… not on the floor.” You yawned, climbing back into your side, and going back to sleep.

This continued to happen for one month, two months, three.

One night, however, you heard a loud crack before something- or _someone_ \- was burying themselves into your stomach.

You sleepily peered under the blanket to see Damian’s face pressed against your stomach.

“Damian?” His bright green eyes peered up.

“You don’t mind, right Ummi?”

“Not at all, Dami,” you murmured, running your hand through his hair as he drifted off to sleep.

The next thunderstorm that happened was when Bruce was there.

As usual, the quiet creak of the floorboard outside your room was heard, followed by the slight jiggling of the door handle, and then the pitter patter of footsteps approaching your bed was right after.

Bruce shifted slightly to give Damian room, but Damian moved to your side of the bed.

“Do you need cuddles?” you sleepily asked him. He shook his head, eyes darting to Bruce’s puzzled ones.

“Well I need cuddles,” you told him, opening your arms. He dove into them, allowing you to kiss his head and play with his hair as he fell asleep. You felt Bruce’s hand on your waist as he shifted behind you.

“When did this happen?” Bruce murmured in your ear, a soft smile on his lips.

”I’m not really sure.” You yawned as Bruce pulled you into him. The next morning, Alfred found the three of you soundly asleep, all in each other’s embrace.


	4. Steve Rogers X Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Backstory: The avengers ask you to teach them how to dance in the retro 40′s style.
> 
> Disclaimer: I know nothing about dancing back in the 40′s, pls don’t kill me.
> 
> Pairing; Steve x Reader

“You said we’ll do what?” Steve looked at you, dumbfounded.

“I asked Bucky, he said no, but to ask you. Please, Steve! I don’t want Tony complaining that we didn’t teach him to dance.”

Steve sighed and nodded as your face lit up. You pressed a kiss to his cheek before shouting a thank you over you shoulder as you jogged away.

Tony was smirking as Steve walked into the now empty living room. You were trying to teach him how to do the first step, but he hadn’t quite grasped it. Neither did anyone else.

“Okay, Capsicle, show us how it’s done.”

You shot Tony an exasperated look as he sat down, playing an old song that you used to love.

Bucky grinned as Steve politely held out his hand for you to take. You did, and he pulled you towards him, before spinning you twice. A giggle bubbled up in your throat as you twirled around the living room much faster than the team expected.

He lifted you into the air and span you, before he swung you around him. 

The rest of the team was definitely not expecting that.

You twirled two, three, four times before you took Steve’s right hand with your left, spinning into him, you back hitting his chest lightly. His other hand was gripping your other, before you kicked off the ground and did a flip over his shoulder.

“Okay, okay, we get it.” Tony interrupted. “Now show us slowly.”

You grinned up at Steve, your cheeks flushed, trying to catch your breath. He grinned as he took your hand again.

“Okay, so first, we move into a waltz position, before he spins me like this…”


	5. Newt X Reader

You hummed as Newt lazily pressed a kiss to you lips, his arms around your waist.

You pulled back and continued plucking at the flowers and grass. You carefully weaved a flower crown as Newt rested his head on your shoulder, occasionally passing you a flower he liked. 

It was just before sunrise, the sky was slightly dark, a very cozy setting. You were sitting in between Newt’s legs, he was leaning against a tree. 

He began braiding your hair, adding flowers and pretty things into it as he worked. It was a little messy, but you kept it. You turned at place the flower crown on his head, grinning when he stuck out his tongue at you.

“You have to wear it the whole day.” You told him, snuggling into his chest.

“The whole day?” He repeated, dumbfounded.

“If you don’t want to, I’ll give it to Minho or Chuck. They’ll be happy to wear it.” You replied, twisting a weed around your finger.

“No, no,” he muttered, placing a kiss on your neck. “There’s no need. I’ll wear it.”


	6. Seth X Reader X Rosalie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during Eclipse. In which the Reader is the youngest member (and imprint of Seth) of the Uley pack and imprints on Rosalie Hale. During the battle with Victoria, she gets bitten. Loads of angst.

Being the youngest shapeshifting wolf in the vicinity was hard.

Having to keep away bloodthirsty vampires was even harder. But having a bloodthirsty vampire as her imprint? That was just about as much as (Y/N) could handle. Thankfully, her pack was super helpful.

Note the sarcasm.

A few of them were nice, like Seth and Sam. Seth supported her in whatever she did because she was his imprint. Embry, Quil and Jared weren’t completely on board, but they offered some advice now and then. Paul and Jacob, however, made life a living hell for her. Especially Jacob.

It was already enough for him that his best friend was in love with a vampire, and now you too. He was… to put it nicely, utterly and completely disgusted. Quoted from Jacob Black himself.

And then Bella being Bella got herself caught in the middle of a vampire war. Which happened to take place not so far from La Push. That meant that the Uley pack was dragged along to protect the humans. (Y/N) was there to protect Rosalie Hale. The one vampire who absolutely despised werewolves. 

Long story short, just as the battle was ending, Rosalie was cornered by around 7 vampires. (Y/N) jumped in to help, and the last one managed to bite her on her front leg.

Rosalie finished off the vampire and turned to (Y/N), who had phased back into a human and was curled up into a ball, clutching her wrist.

(Y/N) was only 14, or so, and was a bright cheerful girl who no one could resist becoming friends with. Not even Rosalie. She wouldn’t admit it, but the werewolf was a nice person, despite being enemies and all. So seeing the girl curled up and whimpering in pain scared Rosalie.

She picked (Y/N) up and sprinted to where Carlisle and Sam were. Sam took (Y/N) back to Emily’s house and the Cullens went home to find out what they could about werwolves and vampire venom.

“Bella needs to get home, Rosalie.” Edward said coolly, his hand on Bella’s back.

“You two do realise that a 14-year-old girl is dying because of us? Because of her.” Rosalie snarled, glaring at Bella. “The least you could do is stay and help us look-”

“Edward, I’m staying,” Bella cut in, moving to help Esme flip through books. 

“Bella-”

“(Y/N)’s my friend, Edward.” Bella protested, grabbing a book and throwing it to him. Edward sighed and helped his family look.

Sam sighed in relief as he looked at the book.

“There’s a chance she could survive.” Emily breathed, running her hand over her face tiredly.

“Yes, but it’s very dangerous. We have to do it immediately or she’ll start having seizures-”

“Sam!” Embry burst through the Cullens’ front door. “It’s (Y/N), you have to come now.”

This was possibly the only time no one gave a damn about the treaty line. The Cullens, along with Sam, Emily, Embry and Bella reached Emily’s house in a couple of minutes. Screams and wails could be heard, along with Seth’s panicked yells.

When they entered, Carlisle and Rosalie worked quickly, relying the needle to extract the blood.

(Y/N) slipped in and out of consciousness, her breaths short and quick. She mumbled some gibberish before trying to sit up.

“I need to get up,” she told Seth who pushed her down gently.

“No, darling, you must rest,” his voice cracked as she wailed.

“I need to be up!” She sobbed, her body trembling. 

“Someone do something!” Seth yelled, tears in his eyes as he clutched (Y/N)’s hand. Esme brought a damp cloth and tried to put it on (Y/N)’s forehead. She wailed again, thrashing.

“My head!” She sobbed loudly, her palm hitting her forehead with force. Rosalie grabbed her hand and pulled it away gently.

“It hurts!” She sobbed, trying to free her hand.

“Shh, I know,” Rosalie soothed, rubbing her arm. “Carlisle, hurry!”

Carlisle rushed over and inserted the needle in (Y/N)’s arm, right above the bite.

(Y/N)’s breathing became ragged, her heart beating way faster than the average werewolf. All the Cullens and the wolves could hear it, the speed so fast it was like a humming noise.

She was silent for a moment, before she gasped for breath, silence overtaking her once more.

“What’s happening?” Seth asked, gripping onto (Y/N) tightly. 

“Sam, dammit, what can we do?” Emily asked, shaking Sam.

(Y/N) gasped for breath again, her chest rising and falling quickly.

“She can’t breathe…” Rosalie mumbled, panic overtaking her.

“Carlisle, she can’t breathe!” She shouted, voice cracking. 

“Dammit, Cullen, save her!” Paul yelled, moving to help his baby sister.

“It’s too late,” Carlisle sighed, removing the needle. “The venom has reached her heart and brain. There’s nothing to be done.”

“That’s not possible!” Bella protested, trembling. “Surely not in this day and age!”

“(Y/N), breathe, love,” Seth pleaded, forcing her chin up.

“It’s me, I’m here, breathe,” he whispered, gripping her hand. (Y/N)’s body convulsed again, and she was silent as she thrashed blindly for a moment. It was as if everyone knew what was going to happen. Rosalie let go and stood, horror all over her features.

“Darling?” Seth breathed, watching as (Y/N)’s body relaxed slowly. The entire room was silent, as everyone watched (Y/N)’s lips and body started to turn blue.

“No!” Seth wailed, shaking her.

“Get up, love.” He was trembling, sobbing. “Don’t leave me, please!”

“Please..” Seth sobbed. Everyone seemed to be looking at Carlisle, hoping. Carlisle leaned forward and pressed his cool fingers against (Y/N)’s neck. A second passed. Two.

Carlisle pulled back and shook his head, clearing away the needles.

“This can’t be,” Rosalie breathed as Emmett embraced her. She pushed him away and moved closer to (Y/N).

“She’s only 14-years-old.” 

The living room was silent, and suddenly Embry wailed. He leaned against the door frame as Paul punched the wall, cursing loudly. Tears fell down his face and he made no move to stop them. Sam stood frozen as Quil and Jacob leaned on each other, both crying too.

Rosalie turned towards Bella.

“Do you still want o become one of us?” She spat out, malice in her voice. Edward didn’t stop her.

“All of this,” she gestured around the room. “All because of our stupid venom.”


	7. Batmom X Batboys

“Let me love you a little more before you are not little anymore.”

“…she had loved a little boy very very much, even more than she loved herself.”

* * *

(Y/N) (L/N) was 19 when she married Bruce Wayne. She was 19 when she married the most famous man in the world. She was 19 when she married Batman.

* * *

(Y/N) was 22 when they adopted 9-year-old Richard Grayson. He was a sweet little angel that she was grateful to have, for she couldn’t have children of her own. She knew straight away that those bright blue eyes and tiny hands had already stolen her heart.

A few weeks after Dick moved in, you awoke with a strange feeling. In a sleepy daze, you threw off her covers and stumbled to Dick’s room.

You opened the door and your heart ached at what you saw. The poor thing was sobbing into his pillow, calling for his Mum and Dad.

You sat down next to him and pulled him into your lap, rocking him and humming soothing tunes. You let him cry until he fell asleep, and even then, you continued to rock him though the night.

* * *

“No.”

“But, Mum, I’ll be safe!” Dick protested.

You faltered when he called you ‘Mum’, and bent down to squeeze him tightly. After a few minutes of hugging him, you let him go saying that, fine, he could go, as long as he stayed safe.

And thus, Robin, the Boy Wonder was born.

* * *

Okay, children were something else altogether.

You were at a gala when Dick wanted Bruce’s attention. So, like any other person would do, he ‘pssd’ and motioned for Bruce to bend down while you and the other adults pretended you couldn’t see him. He wanted ice-cream, and asked for extra sprinkles.

Later, however, after his sugar rush disappeared, Bruce had to carry him as he slept on his shoulder.

A photo of Bruce carrying Dick with you petting his hair made the front cover the next morning.

* * *

You couldn’t sleep so you went downstairs to bake cookies. You don’t know what happened, but suddenly there was Dick sitting on a stool, ‘sampling’ the cookie dough. This became a weekly tradition, and every Saturday morning, you and Dick would bake something.

Alfred was sweet enough to lay out the main ingredients you would need, and at 6 a.m. in the morning, the smell of delicious baked goods wafted through the manor.

* * *

You walked through the same hallway you had for 12 years, and it felt so different.

With Dick now in Bludhaven, the house felt so empty and cold. You paused in front of Dick’s room, hesitating before you went in. You inspected the room, and it felt so wrong to see so many of his possessions gone.

Tears stung at the back of yours eyes and you sighed. You felt silly for crying, he was only in the next city.

But you would miss his cheeky grin and his silly antics and- god what was wrong with you?

You missed your boy, and it was okay to do so. You didn’t know growing up would hurt so much.

* * *

A couple of months later, you found a 14-year-old boy tied up and gagged on the floor in the Batcave.

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed, bending down to untie him as he glared up at you.

“Bruce, what is this?” You exclaimed, untying the gag.

“He kidnapped me!” The child said as you stared at Bruce incredulously.

“This is the child that tried to steal the tires. Hi name is Jason Todd.” Bruce said as he took off his cowl.

“And are we keeping him?” You asked, ignoring the child’s protests. Bruce looked at the teenager, crossing his arms and then at your hopeful eyes.

“Yes.”

* * *

When someone looked at Jason Todd, they would never guess that his biggest weakness was that he was a total Mama’s boy.

Jason loved those moments his ‘Ma’ would kiss his head after returning from work, and the way you would run your hand through his hair as you watched tv, or the way you would let him cuddle you as you read a book.

So your tradition with Jason was born. You would both curl up in some blankets, some hot chocolate and cookies nearby, reading. He would sometimes ask you to read, so that he could fall asleep next to you. You adored Jason, and cherished these moments with him. When he would fall asleep, you would close the book, moving so that Jason slept at a better angle. That last night, you smiled at his sleeping form, and thanked the lord for these miracles of yours.

* * *

He was only 15.

You remembered that is was April 27.

You also remembered Bruce coming home, bloody and broken and bruised and alone.

You remembered how the world stopped spinning suddenly, and it felt as if your head was underwater. It felt as if there were 1000 tons on your chest, about to crush it.

You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t move, you couldn’t think and it _hurt_.

You vaguely remembered falling, but someone- perhaps Alfred or DIck, who had suddenly appeared- caught you.

You remembered screaming and screaming until you lost your voice, and you cried and cried until you passed out.

He was your baby, he was your life, he was your _son._

And he was gone.

* * *

After Jason’s death, you fell into depression.

You locked yourself in his room, refusing to come out for over three days until Dick had to climb through the window to make you eat.

You refused to speak to anyone, and never left the manor. Bruce never went near you.

Dick moved back into the manor to help Alfred take care of you.

Sometimes, he would see you sitting in the garden, an empty look in your eyes as you stared at nothing.

It scared him so much, that the strongest woman he knew, the most amazing mother, was destroyed.

You were broken, you were a walking corpse wit no more purpose to live.

Thats where the scars on your wrists came from.

You went into the bathroom, a picture of Jason in your lap as you whispered to him that “Your Ma is coming to you, baby.”

Dick found you, pale, and nearly dead, sitting in a pool of blood. He rushed you to the hospital and you were there for over a week.

You were broken, and you couldn’t be fixed.

* * *

 

About a year after Jason, Bruce bought him another boy, only 13.

You screamed and screamed and Bruce because he was _absolutely crazy_ if he thought that you would let another boy walk into danger, and _you’d be damned_ if you allowed it. You yelled at him as Alfred gave the boy some food, and you started crying, because _fuck_ , it hurt, and you missed Jason, and, _fuck, Bruce, I can’t do this alone._

He hugged you as you both cried, mourning your son together. Then you wiped your tears and went upstairs to the new boy under you roof. You swore that you would protect him, and you started going on patrols from that day on.

* * *

Your tradition with Tim started straight away.

That day, both of you were playing video games, and eating chips and soft drinks and being overall unhealthy.

That’s what you would do on the weekends after he did his homework.

* * *

Tim loved when you made him coffee.

You and Alfred were both strongly against his high coffee intake, so he had to brew it himself.

But on those very rare occasions you made coffee for him, you would make it perfectly.

He loved the way you made it, and a sip from your coffee was all he needed to go along his day.

* * *

Tim wasn’t happy.

Bruce just brought home an 11-year-old who was his son.

Which meant that Tim was no longer the baby.

He didn’t really want to make friends, which was great because neither did Damian.

“I can relate.” Dick chirped as he watched Tim’s scowling form. You looked up at him, confused.

“When Bruce brought home… Jason,” he said the name slowly, and the three boys noticed you flinch.

“You didn’t like him?” You asked, blinking back tears.

“No, it wasn’t that,” Dick chuckled. “It just… he never asked, ya know? It’s like he found a replacement for me. And it kinda sucked.” Dick told you and you looked at Tim and Damian who were having a glowering contest.

“I’m sorry.” You suddenly sobbed, covering your face. Tim shot up, dashing towards you as your body shook. Dick hugged you as you cried.

“I could never replace you, okay? Never!” You hugged Tim, crying even more.

Damian was confused, watching your sobbing form. He didn’t understand why Dick and Tim were so upset by your crying. Talia had described you as a bitch, and yet, as he saw the way you held your boys, he felt that maybe Talia was wrong.

* * *

Your tradition with Damian was originally just your Sunday programme.

You would binge watch tv shows like Sherlock or Game of Thrones or Downton Abbey, and suddenly there was a little boy curled up on the opposite couch, watching with you. That’s how you spent your Sundays, watching period dramas.

* * *

Damian would crawl into your bed during a thunderstorm.

He was afraid of the thunder, and would cuddle up with you or Bruce at night.

He said he’d rather with Bruce, but he, like Jason, was a Mama’s boy. He secretly loved when you’d cuddle him and hug him like there was nothing that could take him away from you.

Both he and Tim had noticed, though, that your smile never quite reached you eyes, and that everyday you would disappear for hours at a time, locking yourself in Jason’s room.

They knew you how much it affected you, and they tried to make sure you were always happy, and that you never missed Jason.

But how could a mother not miss her child?

* * *

 

You were trembling, scared to go closer, scared to speak, scared to breathe lest he disappear.

He was older, more mature, and even had a white streak in his hair.

But you still recognised him. You’d always recognise your baby.

“Jason?” Your voice cracked and he flinched.

He looked up, meeting your eyes. He noticed how much older you looked. His gaze stopped at the scars on your wrists, and he felt guilty.

“Hey, Ma.” He muttered.

You hugged him, pulling him into you as you sobbed. And then suddenly, you felt well, you felt whole. You felt perfect, not healed, because it was as if there was never a wound to begin with. You pulled back and gazed at him lovingly, your thumb dancing along his cheek.

“Look at you.” You whispered, kissing his forehead.

“You’re all grown up…” You laughed, the most genuine laugh your children had heard from you in years, hugging him tightly. He tightened his grip on you, trying to blink back his own tears.

“Oh, Jaybird… I’ve missed you so much.” You whispered as he cried.

“Ma…”

“Shh, I’ve got you, baby, Mama’s got you.” You hummed, running your fingers through his hair. “I love you so much, baby.”

* * *

It was a few months before Jason stopped being so hostile towards the younger boys.

When Bruce came home at night, he was surprised to see you sleep on your shared bed. With four black haired boys all curled up around you. Your arms were around Jason, and the other three had managed to slot themselves into any empty spaces they could find, which meant that Damian was on top of you.

With a smile, Bruce quietly slid into the mostly empty side near Jason, managing to wriggle his arms around you, pulling you all into his chest.

A chorus of sleepy groans were heard, which was answered by a laugh from Bruce who then kissed your forehead. Damian moved to climb onto of Bruce as Tim moved on top of you. You hummed a soothing tune as all five of your boys fell asleep with smiles on their faces.


	8. Draco X Reader

Okay, so she was kind of beautiful.

_Kind of._

Which didn’t mean that Draco Malfoy was admitting to anything thank you very much. No, it was just the fact that he thought the way her hair cascaded down her back was enchanting, and the way she threw her head back as laughed, clutching her stomaching as she dissolved into giggles was absolutely mesmerising, and the way she chewed on her lip when she was deep in thought and-fuck he was screwed.

Draco didn’t realise he was staring until Blaise literally stuck his face in front of him.

“Where are you lost, mate?” he turned to see what Draco was looking at before he grinned.

“A Hufflepuff, huh? Well, she ain’t bad looking. Do you have crush?”

“Shove off.” Draco growled.

"Oh, _yeah_.” Blaise grinned. “Defiantly a crush.”

“I don’t even know her name,” Draco protested.

“(Y/N) (L/N), she’s a muggleborn.” Blaise replied smoothly, taking sip of his drink.

“And just how the hell do you know that?” Draco spluttered.

“Muggle studies. We’re partners.” Draco sighed, glancing back at her. She was giggling again, and suddenly her friend nudged her causing her to look up.

And lock eyes with Draco.

Draco looked down so quickly he felt his cheeks heat up. Beside him, Blaise sniggered.

“If it makes you feel better, mate, she’s blushing too.” Draco hesitantly looked up again, seeing a blush on her cheeks as she avoided his gaze. He felt a smile spread on his face as her eyes flickered up, meeting his once more.

Beside him, Blaise groaned dramatically. “Geez, go talk to her already. It’s weird seeing you like this.”

Draco, who was still maintaining eye contact with her, felt a sudden burst of confidence and stood up, pushing himself from the table. “Maybe I will.”

Okay, so he kind of had a crush.

_Kind of._


	9. Jason Todd X Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: mention of self harm, suicide, and heartbreak. Please do not read if you get triggered by such topics.

Red was the colour of your heart, beating multiple times a minute.

Red was the colour of all the blood he’s spilled over the years.

Red was the colour of the logo on his chest, the same logo you’ve traced a million times over.

Red was the colour of his helmet and all his secrets kept within.

Red was the colour of that dress she wore all those nights ago.

Red was the colour of her painted lips, curved into a mischievous smile.

Red was the colour of the lipstick stains you found on his shirts.

Red was the colour of the sheets you found them in.

All those nights you had spent with him meant nothing.

He cancelled all your plans now, for her. _For her_.

Yet in the middle of the night when he came back-yes he was bloody and bruised, but _he came back to you_ \- you would feel a surge of pride that you were the one he trusted with his secret, not her. But soon, even his nightly visits would cease once he told her.

It was impossible to hate her, which, of course, made you hate her more. She was soft and beautiful and kind and sweet and everything Jason wanted and needed.

It was inevitable, really, everyone was anticipating it, even you, so you don’t know why it still hurt so much.

Probably because you didn’t think Jason would hurt you like that. He didn’t even tell you; you noticed the ring on her finger and said that it was beautiful.

She had responded with a ‘ _Jason has such good taste don’t you think? It’s an amazing engagement ring_.’

And that’s all it took for your heart to break. And to top it all off, he had the nerve, he _had the fucking nerve_ to ask you to be his best man at their wedding. You didn’t think you would be able to speak, so you smiled and nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat.

That night you packed your bags and left. As you drove out of Gotham, the sun was setting, painting the sky a vibrant red. _How fucking ironic_.

_Red was important._

_Red was significant._

Red was the colour of your heart before it shattered.

Red was the colour of your wrists after you dragged a blade across them.

Red was the last thing you saw before the blackness enveloped you.

_Oh, that beautiful red._


	10. Jason Todd X Reader

“You’re cute,” she grinned, tilting her head.

Her (e/c) eyes sparkled with mischievousness as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Give it back,” he replied, voice monotone.

“Give what back?” She asked innocently, batting her eyes.

She was Catwoman’s protege, and she knew how to play her game. Sure she was only 15, but she knew enough to make a 15-year-old boy stumble. Even if he was Batman’s protege. And anyways, the Bats were so much more fun.

“Don’t make me ask again,” he growled, losing his patience.

“Aww, so angry. Jason, right?” She asked coyly, playing with a lock of her hair. He didn’t flinch. She was quite sure he knew her name too. She smiled, skipping up to him before pressing a quick kiss to his lips. His eyes widened, and she laughed, pressing the jewel into his hand.

“Only because you asked nicely,” she purred, hand on his chest.

“See you around Angry Bird!” She called over her shoulder as she backflipped off the roof. Jason glanced down at the diamond in his palm and shook his head.

There was no way in hell he’d tell Bruce about this.


	11. Bruce Wayne X Reader

The streets of Gotham were dark as they usually were.

The wind moved quickly, in a quiet whisper, but it echoed off the empty roads, a deafening silence enveloping the crime city.

In the dark, if one payed close attention, one could see the silhouette of a woman, clad in a full black attire, perched on top of one of the buildings.

The woman closed her eyes, enjoying the wind whipping around her face as she inhaled the familiar homely yet strange scent Gotham seemed to produce.

Her bright eyes opened quickly, and she straightened, still facing the edge of the building.

“So you got my message then.” She hummed, turning her head slightly. 

She was met with silence. She usually was. He never really was one for words.

“Do you have what I wanted?” She asked, turning and facing a pair of hard blue eyes. He hadn’t changed much. Well, except for the stubble. He didn’t shave today.

The Bat extended his arm and dropped a set of keys into her waiting palm. She nodded in thanks, turning to leave when he moved so quickly she didn’t have time to think.

In less than a second, he had grabbed her wrist and pulled her flush against him, his hands on the small of her back. If one were to look now, only the silhouette of Batman would be seen, considering how small she was in comparison to him.

“Let me go!” She gasped, trying to move away.

“Stay.” His voice was hard, gravelly.

“Bruce, let me go,” she demanded, but his grip on her tightened.

“Stay,” he pleaded, his eyes softening along with his voice. Her resolve weakened as he removed his cowl, pressing his face into the crook of her neck.

“Even if it’s only tonight,” he murmured, gripping her waist tightly.

“Alright, Bruce,” she sighed, running her fingers through his hair.

“I’ll stay.”


	12. Jason Todd X Reader

You were on your beanbag, a cup of tea in one hand and a book in the other. A creak on the windowsill caused your head to shoot up, eyes darting to the window. The curtains were closed, and you wouldn’t dare open them.

_Tap tap tap. Tap. Tap._

Jason.

 _Who else?_ You smiled, setting your cup down and standing to open the window.

He slid in, followed by another four men you had heard of, but never actually met. His family.

You weren’t so concerned about that, you were more concerned with the blood all over them. You looked over to Jason incredulously before you sighed, shaking your head.

“What’s the worst injury?” Nightwing - Dick- answered.

“Damian has a dislocated shoulder, Jason almost lost an eye, and Tim probably broke his wrist.” His three brothers glared at him and you moved swiftly, pushing the injured boys to the sofa.

You bent down to pull out a box of medical equipment under the table.

“Will someone tell me what happened?” You asked, shooting a pointed look at Jason.

“I may or may not have fucked up.” He smiled sheepishly at you. You put your hands on your hips.

“Judging the amount of blood everywhere, I’m going to say ‘may’.” You quickly slipped on some gloves and passed Jason a cloth, instructing him to hold it to his eye when Dick suddenly noticed something.

“Wait, are you wearing _Jason’s shirt_?” You nodded, moving to stand behind Damian as Dick shared a look with Bruce.

“So, Damian, what happened tonight?” You asked, trying to distract him.

“The usual.” He responded dryly. You shot a look towards Jason, who groaned.

“Demon Spawn sucked today.”

“Todd, I’m not the one who almost lost an eye- OW!”

He suddenly yelped, jerking away from you. You held your hands up sheepishly.

“Sorry. Your arm is fine now, though.” You moved to Tim, inspecting his wrist.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a sprain.” You told him, wrapping it in a bandage.

“You’re wearing Jason’s shirt?” Tim asked, frowning. You smiled and nodded.

Once you were done with Tim, you dashed into the kitchen to grab some chips, passing it to the boys. You crossed your arms, moving to Jason. You took away the cloth, being very careful and wiping away all the blood on his face.

“I’m fine,” he swatted you away. “Don’t worry.”

“You need stitches, you’re not ‘ _fine_ ’, Jason.” You smacked his arm. “I’m your girlfriend it’s my job to worry.”

_“Wait, Todd has a girlfriend?”_


	13. Sherlock X Reader

_“I will not give you up this time.”_

She was singing again.

He looked up from his paper and smiled as he watched her swaying figure. He loved it when she sang. Despite her saying she sounded like a mix between a dying cat and a frog, he thought her voice was beautiful. Especially at times like this. Times when her hair was messy and all around her face in a fuzzy halo. Times when she was wearing sweatpants and a too large baggy t-shirt. Times when she looked so young and beautiful and carefree- And then Sherlock swallowed as she looked at him, smiling. He realised that, yes, he was, in fact, in love with that beautiful woman. And it was so damn scary, so utterly frightening that as soon as he looked at her, he felt he was the bravest man alive.

_“Baby, I’m dancing in the dark.”_

He stood up and strode over to her, grabbing her hands and pulling her flush against him.

“With you between my arms,” he sang softly, twirling her around the living room.

A giggle escaped her throat as she looked at him. He grinned at her and dipped her suddenly, and a squeal escaped her throat as he started laughing, properly laughing, as they danced in the dark.

 _“Darling, you look perfect…”_ he hummed, pressing a kiss to her temple.

She loved it when he was like this. He could be so soft and gentle and romantic when he wanted to be, and she loved those moments.

It was random and silly and barely 1 o’clock in the morning, but they found themselves dancing in the darkened living room to no music and a whole lot of laughter.


	14. Chapter 14

Your relationship with Bruce started out pretty much the same as his and Selina’s. It was dysfunctional, but the attraction was there, and as time went by, the mild flirting and teasing developed into a trust.

You told him your real name only a few months after you had met him saying that you trusted him. He told you that you shouldn’t and you grinned, standing at the edge of the building.

“Catch me.”

You let yourself fall, and in a split second, one of the Bat’s arms were around you waist, pulling you flush against his chest. You grinned at his scowling face and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

* * *

The playful flirting of your relationship began to fade and become more serious after Bruce adopted Dick Grayson. You met the boy several time during patrols or galas, and had grown rather fond of him. He had started to see you as a mother figure.

So naturally, a ten-year-old Dick asked Bruce when he was going to propose to you, and that got Bruce thinking, _when would he?_

The next day, Bruce bought a ring and sent you a message to meet him. He asked you to marry him, and you jokingly said that only if he were there to catch you. He smiled and kissed you, saying that he always would be.

* * *

The next time Bruce caught you, was the day before your wedding. It was during a League mission, and you were handing onto a pole. You don’t know how you got there, but you knew you couldn’t get out. You gritted your teeth as you felt your fingers loosen and then your hands gave way. You were falling for a second before strong has dropped your wrists, pulling you up.

“We really have to stop meeting like this,” he told you, pulling you to your feet.

“But you always catch me,” you called over your shoulder as you ran off to help Diana.

* * *

The last time Bruce caught you, you nearly died. You were thrown of a building due to an explosion and your grappling hook wasn’t working. You saw the ground approaching you rapidly and you closed your eyes- a force slammed into your side and you opened your eyes, startled. You were met with terrified blue eyes gazing back at you. When Bruce had got you standing somewhere safe, he kissed you.

“It’s like you’re pushing your luck,” he growled. “You keep getting closer and closer. That was terrifying, (Name). You’re a mother of four kids, can you be less reckless?”

You were trembling and you hugged him tightly. “I don’t have to be with you there to catch me.”

* * *

You were having a huge fight with your family. Mostly Bruce, due to the fact that you may or may not have shot the Joker in the head. It got so bad that you moved out for awhile to give yourself some space. It was roughly a month later when there was another League mission. You were almost finished, just a couple more baddies to deal with. Everything was going well until you jumped in front of a bullet for Bruce. His back was to you and he didn’t see you stumble.

“Bruce…” you whispered, letting the pain envelop you as your body fell backwards over the edge. The League finished up the last few when they heard a loud _thump_ , 40 something stories below them.

Horror enveloped Bruce when he couldn’t see you, and he rushed to the side of the building. Peering down, the small outline of your body sprawled across the pavement met his eyes. He swore and roped down as fast as he could, reaching, trying, hoping that maybe, just maybe he could catch you in time.

But you can’t catch something that is no longer falling. He reached the ground and saw your usually bright eyes lifeless, the blood pooled around your head, and utter despair and agony ripped through him.

Bruce was supposed to catch you, _dammit_ , he always caught you.

 

 

But _this time_ , he was too late.


End file.
